


Homecoming

by DiamondHeartbreaker



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Childhood Friends, Dancer!Reader, Dancing, Dirty Dancing, Drama & Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Love, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reader-Insert, References to Depression, Reiner Braun Needs a Hug, Romance, soldier!Reiner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:08:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29830248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondHeartbreaker/pseuds/DiamondHeartbreaker
Summary: Five years ago the nation of Marley declared war on New Eldia. In the hopes of protecting his nation and providing a better life for his family, Reiner Braun enlisted in the Eldian Warrior unit, and shipped off to war— leaving you and the relationship you shared behind. Now, the war is over and Reiner has returned home, broken and lost. He knows your life has gone on without him, but he can't shake the thought of you from his mind. Is there any chance you could still love him? [1900s War AU -Reiner x Fem!Reader]
Relationships: Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir, Reiner Braun & Reader, Reiner Braun/Original Female Character(s), Reiner Braun/Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 49





	1. Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> This is a 1920s-ish era Reiner x Fem!Reader AU; there are no titan shifters, etc.  
> 'New Eldia' is established as your home country, and is allied with the nation of Paradis, so there's also a bit of mixing of the characters to suit story needs. In addition, everyone is aged up a bit (most main characters are in their early 20s); reader is written as approx. 22/23. 
> 
> The plan for the story is to swap perspectives between Reiner/Reader; this first chapter is in Reiner's POV (and got a bit lengthy, oops). The present narrative will be interspersed with some flashbacks to better expand on the reader's past with Reiner. I have a good amount of this story planned out, so I hope you enjoy the ride. :) 
> 
> Expanded Summary: Five years ago the nation of Marley declared war on your home, New Eldia. In the hopes of protecting his nation and providing a better life for his family, your childhood friend and boyfriend, Reiner Braun, enlisted in the Eldian Warrior unit against your wishes and shipped off to war at the age of 18. Meanwhile, you were left behind to pick up the pieces of your shattered trust and move on with your life. Now, the war is over and Reiner has returned home, broken and lost. He knows your life has gone on without him, but he can't shake the thought of you from his mind. You have your own issues to worry about, and your first love returning is the last thing you need to complicate things further.

_“I told you not to go.”_

_He peered into the descending twilight, searching for the source of the voice. One step forward, and he saw her, bathed in shadow at the precipice of a cliff. She faced away from him, her skirt wavering in the harsh ocean breeze. He took a step forward and reached out a hand to her shoulder._

_“I begged,” her voice trilled. “And you still left.”_

_Then she was staring at him, dark eyes boring into his own. Her face was gaunt, dark circles and deep hallows marring the visage of the beautiful girl he remembered. The vibrant tones of her complexion had been replaced with sickly shades of gray and blue, and her hair had matted in strange ways. He flinched away, but she closed the distance._

_“You left me.”_

_“I’m sorry. Please forgive me I, I—” he muttered. He urged his body to step backward but found himself unable to move, unable to look away from her ghostly presence._

_“You left me, Reiner.”_

_Reiner tried to cry out for forgiveness once more, but his voice had been taken too._

_Suddenly, she was gone. In her place, a dark-haired man, pale, and missing a chunk of his skull. Gore clung to his face, shivering as he spoke._

_“Was it worth it?”_

Reiner woke, heart beating rapidly in his chest and body slick with sweat. He sat upright in his bed, heaving exasperated breaths and clenching fistfuls of blankets as he struggled to calm himself. Slowly, his quarters came into focus, illuminated in the dull red hue of the ship safety lights. They were cramped and simple, but familiar. He took note of the items he could see: one desk, one chair, a notebook he had left open, the blanket on his lap, the discarded clothing on the floor. All things he knew; all things that were his. He counted the bolts around the door frame, one by one, and found there were ten, the same ten he had counted many times before. He began to register the sounds of the ship— clanging of pipes, footsteps in the hallway, and the sounds of voices somewhere down the hall. Everything was as it should be. He was safe.

Deep breaths crashed over him in waves, evening out his heart rate and dissipating his panic. Even so, Reiner could not shake the image of your sickly face from his mind. The other details of his nightmare were fading, replaced with memories of regret and guilt. He longed for when you were more commonplace in his dreams than his nightmares, but his days of deserving such gifts had long passed. He would reap what he had sown; he owed it to Bertolt.

A sudden ruckus in the hallway and a sharp rap on the door interrupted his spiraling thoughts, as conversation and footsteps grew louder and more abundant.

“Vice Captain Braun,” a voice called out, before rapping on the door again.

“Yes?”

“We’re preparing to dock, sir. We’ve arrived back in Eldia City.”

“Look at them all,” Pieck murmured as she leaned haphazardly over the railing of the ship, crutch propped beside her. “Never thought we’d get such a warm welcome home.”

“Me neither,” Reiner replied. He stood stiffly beside her in his uniform, taking in the sea of people waiting for them at the docks. The crowd cheered at their massive vessel as it made port, some holding colorful ribbons and banners, others just waving ecstatically. While he was sure some may be random Eldian citizens, he knew most of the crowd would be the family and friends of those aboard their ship. They were the people who had waited weeks, months, years to see their loved ones return home safely from war. A crowd that should have been bigger.

Of the dozens of recruits that had joined the Eldian Warrior unit with him five years ago, he could count on one hand those who now returned with him. Pieck, Annie, and himself were the only ones left from their original squad. _Bertolt and Marcel were_ _…_

“Woo hoo,” came a screech from behind them. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

Reiner turned to see Porco Galliard waving frantically, smiling and blowing kisses to the crowd. He grimaced at the younger man’s exuberance. Though Porco had served with them, it had only been for the past two years _—_ around the same time their allies from Paradis joined the fight. Porco had enlisted under the guise of honoring his late brother, though it was clear that he mostly sought vengeance for Marcel’s death. He got to experience the more romanticized side of war: the intrigue and espionage that the Warrior unit was originally intended to specialize in _—_ of which, he was very adept.

But he was not there when they had to get their hands dirty, when their unit sat in the trenches for days on end, sobbing and covered in the blood of enemies and comrades alike. He never had to struggle against a man with eyes the same as his own in a fight for his very life, until he felt the man take a final breath under his own demented grip. He did not have to carry the mangled corpse of a friend he loved back to base, blood and gore sloshing against his body with every pitiful step.

No, Porco did not have to experience any of that. And Reiner was envious.

Porco threw his arms around Reiner and Pieck. “Come on guys! Look at ‘em all out here to greet us, and you two can’t even be bothered to wave.”

Pieck made a disgruntled noise before giving a small flourish of her hand towards the crowd.

Reiner shrugged off Porco’s arm but gave a small wave as well, if only to appease him.

“See those smiling faces?” He asked. “They’re the reason we went off to fight.”

“That’s a nice thought, Pock,” Pieck muttered. “Delusional, but nice.”

Reiner stepped off the landing platform, following behind Pieck with his towering form. She had become adept with her crutch, but with all the excitement and allure of home, he was concerned someone might try and rush her off to get to their own family quicker. She threw him an exasperated glance before leading them into the crowd of cheering voices. Mere steps into the mob and people he did not even know or recognized began reaching out to them, clasping their arms and shoulders, _thanking_ them. Wide-eyed children clinging to the legs of their mothers and fathers stared up at them in awe as they passed, as if they were the titans of legend. Voices in the crowd called out warm messages of welcome to them, to _him—_ “Welcome back, Warriors! Welcome back, Vice Captain!”

It was not long before Pieck’s father emerged from the crowd, the frail man pulling his daughter into a tight embrace. Reiner could not help but smile, nodding at the man before continuing on his way through the sea of thank yous and foreign touches. Ahead of him, he watched Annie jump into a woman’s arms _—_ her girlfriend, Hitch, who had waited for her this whole time. He could not help but wonder if _you_ would have waited for him, had he only told you the truth, had he left things better. He began scanning the crowd; there was a chance you could be somewhere here, maybe just to greet your returning friends; it was not so far fetched. Perhaps if he just caught a glimpse of your face, healthy and bright and smiling, he could forget the ghastly version of you that haunted his dreams. And perhaps you would see him and _—_

“Reiner!”

His heart palpitated for a moment, as he turned just in time to catch the child flinging itself into his arms.

“Ah, Gabi,” he exclaimed, a little startled as his young cousin wrapped her arms around his neck. He holstered her in his arms with tentative hug, watching as his aunt and mother pushed through the crowd hurriedly in her wake.

“My dear, son,” his mother called out, gripping his arms with tears welling in her eyes. “Welcome home. We missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” he replied, joy swelling in his heart to know his family was well and safe.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to cry, Gabi,” his aunt teased, pawing at the sobbing mass Reiner held.

“I- I’m not crying,” the young girl stuttered as she pulled back from Reiner. “ The air here stings my eyes, is all. You believe me, don’t you Vice Captain Braun?”

Reiner chuckled softly, shifting her into one arm. “Of course. The salty air is pretty harsh on the eyes.” He glanced around the crowd once more, seeking out any hint of you in the sea of faces.

“Looking for someone?” His mother asked.

He returned his attention to his family and shook his head. “No. Let’s go home.”  
  


His first several days home were the hardest, so much of the world he left behind had changed. For one, his living situation was different _—_ though for the better. Thanks to the money he had earned in the military, his mother had been able to purchase a house. A _nice_ house, with enough bedrooms for their whole family, a proper kitchen, and even a living room. Not to mention, he now had a bed long enough to accommodate his large form. He could see the joy in his mother’s face as she doted about their homestead, no longer stressing about where their next meal would come from or how they would pay their bills. It was everything he had wanted for his family when he had joined the military.

Yet, he was listless. Without Commander Zeke giving out orders, he did not know what to do with himself. Reiner tried his best to help out with things around the house, though he could feel concerned eyes on him at every turn. He knew his family heard his screams at night and saw the exhaustion carved into his face. He spent most of his waking hours lying in bed, waiting for the reprieve of the war’s end to wash over him. But the hours would just pass him by, sometimes as elaborate daydreams, other times as intrusive thoughts. The image of your gaunt appearance remained branded into his mind throughout them all, try as he might to forget it. He considered inquiring to his mother about you: how you were, whether you still danced, or how your family was. But he always lost the courage as fast as he found it. Reiner convinced himself it was better not to know. He could not face how much you probably hated him.

Once or twice, his friends came to the new house seeking him out. But, much to his mother’s dismay, he asked they be turned away. While he appreciated them, he had no energy for them and did not care to explain why.

About a week into his return, he heard the muffled cries of his mother as he passed her room late one night. He stopped and heard her whimper out between sobs, “What has this cost my son?” Reiner wished he could tell her, tell anyone. But he would not burden anyone but himself. So he swallowed it, and let it swallow him in return. The next day, he offered to go grocery shopping for their family, and his mother smiled. He could at least give her that.

The grocer was much as he remembered, though they had expanded to an even larger storefront. He found it strange to be out shopping and paying for goods again. Getting to choose whatever he wanted from such a large selection felt intoxicating after having to work with so little for so long. He even stopped and bought himself a coffee on his way back _— fresh_ coffee, none of that instant shit he had to drink while away. He allowed himself to idle for a moment, sipping his hot drink in the late winter air, no immediate danger around him, just people wandering out on the street, going about their lives. He felt a bit human.

“Reiner? Is that you?”

He broke from his daze to see a woman approaching him, her small frame adorned in a large blue overcoat and bobbed blond hair. She carried a colorful bouquet in her arms and stared up at him with a dazzling smile.

“Historia?”

“I heard you were back. Welcome home!” Historia threw her arms around him in a quick squeeze, flowers nonchalantly smacking him in the back momentarily. She pulled away before he could even figure out how to reciprocate with his hands as full as they were. “How are you, Reiner?”

“I’m doing fine,” he replied, his courteous and automatic response to all such queries. “How are things with you?”

“Me? Things have been good! Very good. I officially took over my father’s jewelry store, which is exciting!” She pushed a loose section of hair behind her ear. “Though I’m sure that seems dull in comparison to your adventures, huh?”

Reiner shook his head. “No, not at all. It sounds nice.”

A sudden look of joy flashed across her face. “Oh, and I got married!”

“Married?” The news was not entirely surprising as Reiner had never met someone who _disliked_ Historia. She was smart, kind, beautiful _—_ all the things a sane person would seek in a partner.

“Yes!” She proclaimed. “To Ymir, two summers ago! It was really such a wonderful day. I wish you could have been there.”

“Ah, so Ymir finally got through to you,” he smirked. Ymir was not exactly the ‘sane’ individual he had imagined, but she had been in love with Historia as long as he had known her. “Well, congratulations. I’m happy for you two.”

“Thank you,” she replied, a warm glow on her cheeks as she toyed with the thin, silver chain around her neck. “I hope you’re not too jealous. I know you had a crush on me when we were kids.”

Reiner shook his head, but could not help the small smile that pulled at his lips. “I wrote you _one_ love note in grade school, and I haven’t heard the end of it since.”

Historia laughed. “I’m just kidding. I know I was never a serious target of your affections. I mean, everyone says _I_ was slow when it came to Ymir, but you weren’t so quick when it came to you-know-who, either.”

“I… that was a long time ago.” His gaze drifted off towards the bustling street. The winter sun splintered fractals of light onto the damp ground, casting shadows that danced amongst the fast moving bystanders, unbeknownst but mesmerizing. “Actually, I was wondering _—_ how is she? Is she well?”

Historia let out a sigh, hugging the bouquet to her chest. “Oh, Reiner. Yes, she’s well. Basically a celebrity around here with all the shows she books.”

“A celebrity? So she’s still dancing then. That’s great.” Ever since you were kids, it had been your dream to be a professional dancer. He had never doubted that you would be able do it, he only wished that he could have been here to witness it.

“Yeah, she can basically gets us in anywhere we want, even the underground clubs! Anyhow, I think she’s on a trip to Paradis with her father right now, but I’m sure she’d **love** to see you once she’s back.”

“Oh, I see.” Part of him was relieved to know he did not have to worry about having some chance encounter like this with you while he looked exhausted and awkward. But the dredges of his feelings for you suddenly had him anxious for your safe return, thoughts swelling in his mind on the dangers of overseas travel. “I’m just glad to know she’s doing well. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Historia cooed, with a small smile. “Well, I ought to get back to the shop.”

“Right,” he nodded. “It was nice to see you. Give Ymir my regards.”

“I will!” She began to turn away, but spun back suddenly to face him, wielding the bouquet in her hands like a weapon. “Oh! Before I forget, a bunch of us are meeting up at the Emerald Rabbit tonight, it’s the club off 4th street.”

“Ah, is that so?” His mother had relayed as much to him after Porco and Colt had stopped by the house earlier in the week, but he harbored no intentions of going. He felt so spent.

“Yep! My house is only a few streets back from where you’re at now, so, I’ll stop by your place around seven and we can walk there together!”

Reiner grimaced. “Wait, I’m not sure if I _—_ _”_

“See you then!” She flashed another dazzling smile, then darted off into the crowd.

Historia had a history of leaving people stunned, and apparently he was no different, even as a grown man. Reiner heaved a sigh and began on his way home. Perhaps it would not be so bad to see some friendly faces _—_ it was odd to not have seen Pieck, Porco, or Annie in over a week after all. He would resolve to just a few drinks and leave. Maybe it would even help him sleep that night.

Once he returned home, he put away the groceries before once again retreating to the safety of his room to bide his time until that evening. He laid down on his bed, this time his mind floating to the memory Historia had reminded him of from all those years ago.

_Reiner had been eating lunch outside one spring day with his friends, most of them discussing their plans for after graduation. He had grown accustomed to you running late to just about everything, but after ten minutes with no sign of your arrival, he was getting worried. Eventually, he spotted you standing under a tree across the courtyard with Marcel Galliard, the two of you laughing about something. Reiner knew the two of you had become closer friends after having so many classes together that year, but the way Marcel had started looking at you recently twisted his stomach into knots. And now there Marcel was, leaning much closer to you than necessary, and you were smiling at him. Reiner thought he might regurgitate part of his lunch._

_“What’s with them?” He had asked the group. “Why aren’t they sitting with us?”_

_Ymir nearly choked on her food, swallowing harshly, obviously in a rush to respond before any of their other friends._ _“You’re not serious, right?”_

 _Reiner frowned._ _“What’s that supposed to mean?”_

_“You don’t know?” She crossed her arms and leaned onto the table. “Man, you really are oblivious.”_

_Historia elbowed the taller girl beside her._ _“Ymir, don’t be mean!”_

_“Fine, sorry,” Ymir conceded. “But come on, but he’s been all over her for weeks.”_

_Bertolt sighed and looked at Reiner with apologetic eyes._ _“Marcel has a crush on her. He’s probably trying to ask her out.”_

_“What?” Reiner’s brow furrowed as he glared in the direction of you and Marcel, still talking and smiling. He felt faint. “Are you serious? Marcel? He’s so different from her. And, I mean, she’s never been interested in him before— she wouldn’t say yes to that, right?”_

_“I mean, you’re her closest friend, you know her best,” Historia interjected, patting Reiner’s hand gently. “But, no, I don’t think so, at least.”_

_Annie turned to follow Reiner_ _’s glare. “I dunno, they look pretty friendly . Besides, it’s not like Marcel’s hard on the eyes. Between the Galliard’s political ties and her family’s business, they could probably run the city if they got together.”_

 _Reiner took a sharp breath and shook his head._ _“No, that’s— I don’t think she would be interested in that sort of thing. I mean, she wouldn’t be, right?”_

_“Why does it matter to you?” Ymir piqued. “You didn’t make this kinda fuss when Pieck started dating that exchange student and ditching us all the time. Why is twinkle-toes so different?”_

_“What? I mean, she’s not,” he argued. “Like Historia said, I just know her and I don’t think that she’d be interested in him. That’s all.”_

_“That’s all? Oh come on, Braun, this is the closest we’ve ever gotten to a breakthrough.” Ymir leaned further onto the table. “Really think about it, y’know? Why is it you care so much about_ **_her_ ** _?_ _”_

_“Here we go,” Annie mumbled, rolling her eyes._

_“I don’t! ” He shouted hands forming into fists on the table, knuckles white against his skin. “I mean, I do, but— she’s just important to me, is all.”_

_“And why is she so very important to you?” Ymir badgered again._

_She had backed him into a corner._ _“She’s my best friend. And, I don’t know, I just, I guess I… I…”_

_“Love her,” Annie interrupted, tearing off a piece of crust from her sandwich. “You love her and you’re jealous.”_

_The table fell silent, all eyes suddenly glued to him._

_“I... love her?” The words fell out of his mouth all too easily. There was just no way. Of course he cared about you as a friend— you had been close since you were kids. But love you? To love someone, he would have to care about them more than anyone else, to want to be with them always, to want to…_

_And then the dam broke. The feelings that he had been careful to bury so deep in the pit of his heart were suddenly bursting out, willing him to split open at the seams. The realization surged through him in overwhelming pulses. Memories of the stutter in his heart when you would compliment him, the feeling of weightlessness that coursed through him when you would laugh at a joke and touch his arm, the way you would smile so brightly after showing him part of your latest routine— just how long at he been suppressing it?_

_“Annie!” Historia hissed, glaring at the girl across from her. “Why’d you do that?”_

_“What? It was either tell him or let Ymir keep playing cat & mouse.” _

_Reiner sunk as far into his seat as he could manage, staring down at the table in awe. He loved you. Was it so clear to everyone but himself? He looked up at his friends._ _“And, what, you all knew or something?”_

_“Well, no offense but… it’s pretty obvious,” Bertolt admitted, rubbing the back of his neck._

_“In a good way!” Historia interjected with a smile. “The way you talk about her, the way you look at her— it’s all very sweet actually.”_

_“Yeah, sickening almost,” Ymir complained, mimicking a gagging noise._

_Reiner froze. No wonder he had hated the way Marcel looked at you lately: it was the same way **he** looked at you. _

_“In any case, you better buck up, Braun. She’s heading over here,” Annie noted, gesturing to the beeline you were now making to the table._

_“And without Marcel,” Ymir added in a speculative tone._

_Reiner straightened himself, running a hand through his short blond hair and clearing his throat. He eyed the table with as stern a look he could manage given his overall disarray._ _“If any of you say a word, I’ll kill you.”_

_“Noted,” Annie replied._

_“My lips are sealed!” Historia whispered, before calling out to you with a friendly wave._

_“Hey guys,” you said, sliding into the open seat beside Reiner._

_“Hey twinkle-toes,” Ymir replied with a smug grin._

_“Did I miss anything?”_

_Reiner shook his head, trying to ignore the heat that now radiated in the mere inches that separated the two of you._ _“Nothing of note. Ymir was just describing how she plans to start a cult after we graduate.“_

_“Not a cult— a religious order,” she corrected him. “Very different.”_

_“By the way,” Bertolt asked. “Where’d Marcel go? Wasn’t he just with you?”_

_Reiner eyed you carefully, watching as your effervescent smile fell away._ _“Oh, Marcel… he wasn’t feeling well, so he said he was going to take a walk before heading back to class.”_

_“Is that so? I guess you were right, Historia,” Ymir said._

_“Right about what?” You asked, eyes darting between the two girls._

_Historia_ _’s face drained of color as she waved her arms defensively in front of her chest. “Oh nothing! I just thought that he was looking a bit… sick earlier is all.”_

_“Ah, I see.”_

_You shot him an inquisitive look, to which he only shrugged and watched as you stole carrots off of his tray. Bertolt thankfully steered the conversation back on track, asking Annie whether she would need a sparring partner over the summer. As conversation amongst their group proceeded, he cold finally take a moment to breathe. He loved you. Now he had to decide what to do about it._

As the memory faded, Reiner allowed himself slowly drift off into unconsciousness, if only for a short while.


	2. Foxglove

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reader's generic last name is Avalon in this story, and you will also see the reader be referred to as Fox/Foxglove throughout this chapter, which is your 'stage' name

Though New Eldia was on the other side of the winter season, the night air was still harsh as you strut through the city. The fur trim of your coat did enough to keep your upper half warm, but your bare legs were left to the elements, the beaded strands of your dress crashing over your knees provided an extra chill with each step. A particularly strong gust of wind rumbled by and you let fly a string of curses under your breath as it nearly ripped the cloche hat from your head. Suddenly you regretted not taking a swig of whiskey before leaving your apartment. You shoved your hands deeper into your coat pockets, willing your feet to carry you just a little faster towards your destination.

“Hey, wait up, Foxglove!”

You stopped on the cobbled street, mortified that someone recognized you despite your atypical penguin-like gait. Thankfully, it took only a moment for you to register Ymir grinning and running in your direction. She pushed past a particularly snobbish looking group of men in top hats who jeered at her as she passed.

A relieved hand flew to your chest. “Oh, thank god, it’s just you.”

“What, thought I was one of your adoring fans, did you?” She paused beside you, taking a moment to brush herself off. She wore a long overcoat over her usual button down and slacks, her brunette hair tied in a low ponytail.

“Aren’t you?”

Ymir chuckled, looping an arm through yours as you continued down the street. “I’m surprised to see you. Thought you weren’t gonna make it tonight. When did you get back?”

“Early this morning. I spent most of the day sleeping but saw your note when I woke up. Not gonna miss a night out after being stuck in Paradis for weeks.” You craned your head around, seeking out your short blond friend that normally accompanied Ymir. “Where’s Historia, by the way?”

“Oh, I let her go on ahead. She gets excited about this kind of stuff, so I told her I’d close up the jewelry store so she could get there early.” The tone of Ymir’s voice reflected a certain level of pride.

“Wife of the year, aren’t we?”

“Don’t let any men hear you say that,” she teased. “So, how was Paradis besides boring? Is your father gonna sign the deal with that industrialist you told us about?”

You frowned, thoughts flooding with memories of the recent weeks you had spent in the island nation. The anger you had sobered with sleep was creeping up your throat once again. “I learned that my father approved the initial joint-holding long before we went over.”

“What?” Ymir exclaimed. The two of you paused on the sidewalk corner as a few automobiles chugged down the street. “I thought the whole reason you went was to talk through the deal.”

“That’s what my father wanted me to think. Though it didn’t take long for me to realize the truth after we got there.” You extracted your left hand from your pocket and flashed it to Ymir.

“Holy shit!” She grabbed your hand, pulling it close to her face for examination. “That’s got to be the biggest rock I’ve ever seen. And this setting is immaculate! Wait till Historia sees this _—_ guaranteed she’ll have something like it in our shop before the end of the month.”

“She has good taste.”

Ymir glanced back over at you and dropped your hand, brows knitting together as she connected the dots. “So, what, the guy proposed? You barely know each other.”

“Apparently my engagement to him was the final piece of the deal. My father wanted me _—_ and the business _—_ taken care of for life. He chose not to tell me because, well, he knew how I would react.”

“No shit!” She shouted, as the pair of you continued across the street. “I can’t believe he expects you to marry someone you barely know. I mean maybe they did that shit when he was our age, but not nowadays.”

“It’s still the only secure way for our businesses to be joined in a long-term partnership, especially across borders. If we hadn’t taken such a hit during the war, maybe things would be different. Or if Will was here, maybe he could have… I don’t know. It doesn’t matter,” you shrugged, heaving an exasperated breath.

“So, your… fiancé,” she said, growling out the word. “He was in on it too?”

You shook you head. “He agreed to the deal but thought that I was expecting the proposal. He realized pretty quickly that my surprise was genuine when he got down on one knee.”

“And he just went along with it anyways?”

“I spoke to him privately afterward. He apologized and offered to speak with my father but…”

“But?”

“I… I told him not to bother,” you murmured.

Ymir’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know. In the moment, I just I felt like an ungrateful brat. Even though I don’t know him well, and he’s almost about fifteen years older than us… he’s a nice man. He’s handsome and well-off financially. I’m sure there are loads of people who would be grateful to be in a similar situation, especially coming out of the war. So, I figured it was just better if I _—_ _”_

“Settled?”

You shot her an anguished look as the two of you came to a stop outside of your destination. A wooden signpost featuring a painted white hare with a pair of green gems for eyes swung idly above the stone steps descending to the entrance. The club was more bustling than usual, with some of the crowd spilling out onto the stairs, more than a few cigarettes lit amongst them. A din of voices and music spilled out from behind the doorway and warm light splashed onto the street from the windows that peaked out just above ground level.

“Anyways, I don’t want to think about it anymore tonight. I didn’t even mean to wear this stupid ring out, but I forgot to take it off before I left.” You shuddered as another sharp gust of wind threaded through the two of you. “I just want to drink and forget about it.”

“Well, I have no complaints with that. But first,” Ymir began pulling out the thin silver chain which sat hidden under the collar of her shirt, revealing the wedding ring that dangled at the end of it. She unclasped the necklace, and slid the ring onto her finger, before extending the chain out to you. “I can’t do much about your situation, except be pissed, but I can at least help you avoid the subject for the night.”

“Ymir,” you mumbled, accepting it in your palm.

“Since Historia and I custom designed our rings, we don’t wear them while we work. Call it selfish, but I don’t want any of our clients trying to copy us.”

You smiled at the taller woman and looped your own ring onto the necklace before placing it over your head and burying it under layers of fabric between your breasts. “Thank you. You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all mushy on me. And I’ll want that chain back, or you can expect a bill,” she replied, beginning towards the steps. “Now let’s go get drunk with my wife.”

You followed Ymir as she began parsing through the congestion in the stairwell. Most people gave way rather easily, but you could tell some of them were far gone. You were almost to the door when one such gentleman rocked lackadaisically backwards, crashing into your shoulder and sending you off balance. Your heels, already precarious on the cobblestone, slipped from the steps and you began to fall backwards. Instinctively, your arms flew behind you, preparing yourself for an imminent collision with the harsh stone _— what a way to start the night,_ you thought. But the impact never came; instead, you felt an arm catch you around the waist.

Turning to look upon your savior, you were greeted with the visage of a man with shaggy blond hair and a well-kept beard. He stared at you with icy blue eyes through double-bridged, wire-frame glasses, regarding you curiously. He held a cigarette in one hand, and your waist in the other, seemingly unfazed by the weight of your body. Carefully, he helped right you back onto your feet.

“You alright?” He asked in a hoarse tone.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks,” you managed to reply, one hand clasped to your chest as you took a few seconds to calm yourself.

The man took a drag from his cigarette, eyes glued to your form for a long moment. Then he turned his attention to the man who had stumbled into you.

“Private Jansen,” he called out. “You’re done for the night. Pack it in.”

‘Private Jansen’ turned, looking relatively fearful in his drunk daze as he laid eyes on the be-speckled man. “B-but, Commander,” the man stuttered.

“Something to say, Private?” The man asked, stern expression carved into his face.

“Uh, no, Commander,” the Private slurred before he began sludging his way up the steps.

The bearded man turned back to you, taking another drag of his cigarette, eyes not leaving your own as smoke billowed from his lips.

_What were soldiers doing here? There was no way they could already be back from the war_ _… right?_

“Hey, what’s the hold up?” Ymir yelled from outside the entrance, clearly oblivious to what had transpired.

“Nothing! I’m coming.” You flashed the man a polite smile and a nod before gingerly descending the remaining stairs towards your friend.

Ymir clicked her tongue. “Ogling other men already, twinkle toes?”

“Oh hush,” you replied, before pushing open the thick wooden door of the club.

The Emerald Rabbit was a modern and inviting haunt. The dim, underground bar extended the length of the building row it was nestled beneath and made use of every inch it had. Upon entering, you were greeted with an obtrusive, industrial bar surrounded by leather clad stools and flanked with high-top tables. Past the bar area was additional seating: velvet couches, leather armchairs, low tables, and inviting chandeliers that cast flickering shadows onto the patrons lounging about. Finally, nestled into the back of the club, was a modest stage and dance floor. It was nothing fancy, but you had spent more time dancing there than anywhere else.

You slipped off your coat and hat, revealing the form-fitting red and black sequined dress with beaded fringe that lay beneath. The doorman offered a mumbled ‘Miss Avalon’ as you handed him the items in exchange for a paper slip which you quickly stored in your bralette. Tonight, the Rabbit was busier than you had seen it in months. All the high-tops were surrounded and each of the bar stools occupied; you could only assume the lounge area was full as well. And while you could not see the band past the horde at the bar, you could at least _hear_ it playing some jazzy number from the rear. The Rabbit had always been popular, but tonight unnaturally so. On top of that, you hardly recognized any of the faces that packed the club. The only other regular you saw was your dance partner and manager, Jean, wearing a dark trilby, tucked against the wall in his usual spot at the bar. Unless the club’s popularity had exploded while you were away, there was only one other thing that explained the influx.

You froze, just past the first corner of the bar, numbers running in your head. “Hey, Ymir. I thought maybe a few of our soldiers might be back… but it seems like a lot more than that.”

She turned to face you, expression much like that of a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “Oh, yeah, a lot of them arrived home about a week ago. I was going to tell you, but then we got to discussing other things so I figured it would be a fun surprise?”

Part of you was soaring at the thought of seeing friends you had not seen in years. But another part was starting to feel light-headed. “W-who all is back? I mean, maybe we should get drinks before we _—_ _”_

“Ymir! Over here!”

You turned your attention to the lounge area, where you could make out a woman waving at you from behind a group of men walking past. Eventually, Historia came into view, kneeling atop one of the couches and wearing a beaded headband around her forehead. The bright smile on her face morphed into a more inquisitive look as she spotted you beside Ymir. Behind her, you caught glimpses of other familiar faces engaged in conversation. Your friend Hitch was seated on what must have been Annie’s lap, and it looked like Porco Galliard sat beside them, laughing. A long-haired brunette you recognized as Pieck sat cross legged on a lounge chair adjacent to them, watching on in interest, and standing beside her was _—_

“Nope.” You pivoted on your heel, weaving your way back into the crowd before any of them could look your way. You pushed through the mob with disregard, instinctively flinging yourself in the direction of Jean’s corner, where he sat with his notebook and a glass of whiskey, very out of sight from the group. 

“Hey, watch it,” he grumbled, shooting you a disgruntled look as you bobbed into him. “Oh, it’s you, Fox.”

You stared back at him blankly, unable to formulate much of a coherent thought with your heart pounding as it was. Seeing Reiner for just that brief moment had been enough to leave you speechless and with a sea of conflicting emotions clawing at your insides. All you wanted was one night with your friends to forget about the future, and fate had to drop him back into your lap. _Him_. The only person you ever allowed to break your heart. And though you had long forgiven him for what happened, it still felt like an old wound had been reopened in the pit of your chest. And it ached for _him_.

“Hey.” Jean turned from the bar, concern growing on his face. He grasped your shoulders and gave them a gentle shake. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Not a ghost,” came Ymir’s voice from behind you. “An ex-boyfriend.”

“Arguably worse.” Jean pocketed his notebook, before sliding off the barstool and giving it a good pat. “Come on, have a seat.”

You did as instructed, shaking your head at Ymir. “I can’t go over there.”

“Yeah, honestly that wasn’t the surprise I had in mind,” Ymir admitted. “I really didn’t think he was going to show, he’s been avoiding everyone all week. But of course, Historia managed to work her magic.”

“This your ex who was in the war?” Jean asked.

You nodded. “Yes. Reiner Braun.”

“I told them I’d be right back,” Ymir continued. “What do you want me to do? I’ll walk you home if you really don’t wanna stick around.”

“No, it’s fine. Just don’t tell them I’m here. I still want to see everyone, so I’ll be over eventually _—_ once I’m feeling brave enough.”

“You mean drunk enough,” she corrected you. “But alright. Take care of her in the meantime, coach.”

“For the last time, I’m not a coach,” Jean complained. Ymir only shrugged and disappeared back into the crowd. He sighed and moved to lean on the bar beside you. “I’m glad you’re back, I’ve got a lot of opportunities lined up for us. But we can talk business tomorrow.”

“Good. I think my brain is at capacity for tonight anyhow.”

“Clearly,” he replied with a smug grin, before waving down the bartender. “Over here, Marco.”

The freckled man turned, throwing a towel over his shoulder as he hurriedly made his way down the bar. “Welcome back, Foxglove! Sorry if service is slow tonight, we’re a bit busy as you can see. Did you have a nice trip to Paradis? I haven’t been back home in years.”

Disarming with his friendliness as always, you felt yourself relax a bit in Marco’s presence, ignoring the weight of the ring that hung in your bosom at the mention of the island nation. “No worries, Marco. My trip was nice, though I would have preferred to have one of you showing me around.”

“Maybe one day,” Marco suggested with a smile. “You know, Jean was starting to worry you might not come back.”

You turned to eye your partner. “Really? I don’t think I’ve ever known you to worry, Jean.”

“Of course I was worried,” he admitted, a soft blush on his cheeks. “You were gone for weeks! We’re two halves of one cash cow _—_ the Fox and the Hound. What’s one without the other?” 

“Realistically, the Fox is probably better off without the Hound,” Marco pointed out.

“Hey! You’re supposed to be on my side, Bott,” Jean replied, wagging his hand at the dark-haired man. “Can you just get the lady a drink?”

Marco turned his attention back to you. “What will it be?”

“A shot of something strong, and something stronger to wash it down with. Doesn’t matter what.”

Marco raised his eyebrows. “That kind of night?”

“Better make it two shots. Her ex is here,” Jean motioned towards the back of the club.

“Ah, my condolences. Coming right up.”

“Thanks, Marco.” You took a deep breath, allowing the noise to wash over you and sink into your skin. Even if things were busier than usual and circumstances were not ideal, the rest of this place was familiar and safe. Your home away from home.

Marco returned with the drinks rather quickly, Jean politely putting them against his tab. A testament to Marco’s drink mixing skills, the shots went down easily, though no question that they were strong. The drink, which he called an ‘Eldian Tea’ was more evident in its alcohol level, but still enjoyable. Within minutes, you could feel your self-restraint fading and your confidence rising.

“So,” Jean cleared his throat. “How big is your ex-boyfriend?”

You looked at him, wide-eyed, setting your drink on the bar top with a thud. “Excuse me?”

He furrowed his brow and shook his head. “No, no, I mean _—_ _could I take him?_ ”

“ _Take him_?” You repeated. “What?”

He waved his arms frantically. “Like in a fight! Could I take him in a fight? Get your mind out of the gutter, woman.”

“Oh, um, I don’t know. Please don’t try and fight my recently returned from war ex-boyfriend,” you asked. You could not imagine whatever kind of horrors he had witnessed while away, or really who he might be now. Just as he did not know you anymore.

“No, I’m not going too _—_ I, ugh,” Jean rubbed his forehead. “I’m trying to figure out what your plan is here. Toss back enough liquid courage and then waddle up to your friends with your tail between your legs?”

“Well, yes, though it’s not as bad as you make it sound. Why? Do you have something else in mind?”

“I do. I just wanted to be prepared in case he’s the jealous type.”

“I doubt he cares enough about me to fight a stranger,” you replied, sloshing around the ice in you glass. “What’s your plan?

“Well, think about it. Your ex is here, the club is filled with eligible bachelors and bachelorettes, and of all the people in the world, I know how to show you off better than anyone. Why don’t we do what we do best?”

You stared at him for a moment, considering his proposal. It was surely a better entrance than awkwardly shuffling your way over to the group and waving hello. “You must have really been bored without me if you’re feeling this devious.”

Jean smiled wickedly before swallowing the rest of his whiskey and offering you his hand. “There’s a reason I’m called the Hound.”

“You named yourself that.”

He rolled his eyes. “Rich coming from you, _Fox._ _”_

You shrugged, following suit with your own drink before taking his hand with a grin. “Fine. Lead the way.”


	3. First Dance

After waking that afternoon, Reiner felt he had replenished his resolve to decline the invitation out for the evening. He even planned out the conversation in his head, preparing multiple rebuttals and varying excuses for Historia’s potential response. Unfortunately, he had failed to account for her charm in all these scenarios.

Within minutes of arriving at his home, Historia had talked his mother into scheduling a tea date and convinced his aunt to come by her store for a free jewelry cleaning before Reiner could even attempt to dispute his attendance. Historia was hearing none of it, of course. Instead, she goaded on the two older women until all three had bullied him into putting on a clean button down, a tie, and his freshly pressed beige military coat before they left for the evening. Historia asserted that his appearance should match the formality of his awarded title, and his family, of course, agreed. Reiner was suddenly thankful he did not an actual sister— Historia was a terrifying enough example.

As the two of them walked toward the Emerald Rabbit, she filled the time by asking him basic questions about his service, pivoting to provide updates on their local friends at his nearest hint of discomfort. She dropped several mentions of your name as well, each time not so subtly trying to gauge his reactions. Reiner did his best to remain stoic, hoping Historia was not perceptive enough to see through his façade.

After arriving at the club and greeting a few of their friends outside, they entered the underground establishment. While there had been a few hole-in-the-wall pubs among the bases they were stationed at, there was nothing that could hold a candle to the Rabbit. The plush seating, inviting ambiance, and live music were all luxuries that he and the others had seldom experienced while away at war. And whether it was the pervasive scent of vanilla and rum, or just the overall atmosphere of jazz and laughter, he was reminded of _you._ He almost asked Historia if the Rabbit was a locale you frequented when home, but he realized the only possible answer was _yes._

As reluctant he had been to attend, it was a pleasure to witness his friends in such unbridled enjoyment of life. Annie and Hitch were very much attached at the hip, but active participants in conversation. Galliard, meanwhile, was clearly still the lightweight he claimed not to be, and Pieck’s eccentricities became even more peculiar after a few drinks. Zeke was smug as ever, but becoming more forthright as the night went on, loosening up between cigarette breaks and motivational pitches to his younger cousin, Colt. Colt was not as shy around their group as he once was, having gained a new level of confidence that the alcohol only amplified. Historia was a miracle-worker, doing her best to bridge any awkwardness or steer away from particularly sensitive topics. Reiner was amazed to find that he was enjoying himself.

About an hour into the evening, Ymir arrived as well. She was taller than Reiner remembered, but still just as crude. She made her way around the group, greeting each of their friends with her special brand of candid nonchalance.

“ _Vice-Captain_ Braun,” Ymir mocked when it was finally his turn. She grasped his outstretched arm in a firm handshake. “You look like shit. But at least you’ve grown into the facial hair.”

“It’s good to see you too, Ymir,” he responded, releasing her hand with a grimace.

Ymir winked at him and took a seat on the couch between Historia and Colt, throwing an arm over her wife’s shoulder as Colt scooted over. “So, how are the heroes adjusting to life back home?”

“Doing okay. I missed all the _soft_ ,” Pieck cooed, petting the cushioning of her lounge chair. “I know it sounds cliche, but it really is the little things.”

“It’s true,” Annie admitted from beneath Hitch. “I’m just happy to have a good bed again.”

“Though you’re not exactly getting more sleep,” Hitch added with a smirk.

“Get a room,” Porco groaned, an obvious flush on his cheeks. “Personally, I missed the food. I can’t tell you how nice it is to have hot meals every day.”

“Yeah,” Pieck agreed, contorting her legs into a new positioning beneath her long skirt. “I missed my father’s cooking more than I realized.”

“What about you, Reiner?” Historia asked, looking up at him as she sipped from the glass in her hand. “What did you miss most?”

Reiner cleared his throat, suddenly conscious of the group’s expectant gaze on him. “Well, if I’m being honest, I missed the air.”

“The… air?” Colt repeated.

“Yeah. The battlefield always had this awful scent to it. A mixture of sulfur and gunpowder and…”

“Death,” Annie interjected, eyes fixated on the ground.

Reiner nodded. “There’s a lot about war you can get used to over time, horrible as it is. But not that. It was the first thing you would hit you when you woke up and all you could smell while falling asleep. Inescapable.”

Colt shook his head. “That… sounds awful.”

“War isn’t for the faint of heart, Colt,” a husky voice interjected. 

Reiner turned to see Zeke returning from his most recent smoke break, dark trench coat hanging open and a new drink in hand. He positioned himself parallel to Reiner in their circle around one of the low tabletops.

“You should be happy I got you relegated to a desk job,” Zeke reminded him.

“I-I am thankful!” Colt stuttered, clasping an arm to his chest.

Historia sat up excitedly on her couch, looking at the bearded man. “Zeke, this is my wife, Ymir. And Ymir, this is their commanding officer, Zeke. He graduated five years ahead of us.”

“Ah right, blondie’s cousin, he’s always bragging about you. A pleasure,” Ymir said, regarding Zeke with a nod.

“Nice to meet you as well,” he responded, before glancing around their group briefly. “Where’s the other woman you came with?”

Ymir blinked back at him, a sudden pallor clinging to her freckled cheeks. “Woman? I’m not sure who you mean. I came here alone.”

Zeke raised an eyebrow at her. “Really? She had a fur coat and a little hat on. Could have sworn you walked into the club with her.”

Ymir stared at him a moment longer, more then let out a boisterous laugh. “Oh, _that_ woman? Not sure. I was worried you were harassing her, so I intervened in case she needed an out.”

“Ah, just my luck. Another beautiful woman who has slipped through my grasp,” he lamented.

Pieck snorted loudly. “Probably for the best, Commander. From what I have seen, you’re not too good with women.”

Zeke shrugged at her. “I’ve had a small sample size to work with.”

Reiner smiled and took a long pull of his own drink. It was a dark and full-bodied concoction that he would have avoided when he was younger in favor of something lighter. But after a few years of consuming the rubbing-alcohol-adjacent swill they passed around the barracks, things like beers and ales could no longer cut through his edge. Pieck had insisted he try a glass of the fortified wine after inhaling two herself and raving about feeling the ‘best’ she had in months. Reiner was starting to see what she meant.

Suddenly, a pair of men bumped into the sofa Porco sat on with Annie and Hitch, sending some of his drink splashing onto his trousers.

“Hey, watch it,” he complained, but the men barely acknowledged him, instead continuing hurriedly towards the rear of the club. Porco scoffed and wiped at spilled droplets on his pants.

“I wonder what’s going on,” Pieck asked, craning herself in the direction the men had gone. “They seemed in a hurry.”

Reiner followed her gaze and found clusters of patrons had gathered on the outskirts of the dance floor at the back of the club. He could just make out a man in a hat speaking to the band leader as the group adjusted their instruments and prepared for the next song.

“Looks like quite the commotion. Excuse me, miss,” Zeke flagged down a red-headed server on her way back towards the bar. “Is there some kind of performance happening tonight?”

The young woman chuckled and shook her head. “I guess you could call it that. Two of our regulars are just about to dance. They’re professionals, so they draw a crowd. You normally only get to see stuff of their caliber at special events, so I’d take a look, if you’re interested.”

“I see, thank you.” Zeke took a bill out of his coat pocket and handed it to the woman.

“Of course.” She pocketed the money and picked up some empty glasses from their table before continuing on her way.

Porco crossed his arms and sunk back into his sofa. “All that fuss for some dancing?”

“You just lack sophisticated interest, Porco,” Hitch chided, before slipping off Annie’s lap and tugging at her hand. “Come on, Annie, let’s go watch.”

The blonde woman stood from the couch with a stretch. “Alright. My legs were starting to fall asleep anyways.”

The couple began towards the dance floor, Zeke turning to follow them as well.

“Wait, Commander, you’re going?” Porco asked, evidently shocked.

Zeke nodded. “Of course. Every decent man should have an appreciation for dancing. Ladies love it, you know.”

“Yeah. Come on, Porco, give it a shot,” Pieck chimed in. She stood from her chair with a slight wobble, before catching herself on the arm of his couch. “Even Reiner likes dancing.”

Ymir laughed. “You know he only ever cared about it for one reason, right, Pieck?”

Reiner frowned and shook his head, trying to smother the memories that were threatening to drown him in embarrassment. “Come on, let’s just go watch.”

Shortly the whole group was ambling towards the back of the club. Zeke spearheaded the charge, pushing past patrons with disregard and scaring off those who recognized him, much to Pieck’s delight. Historia and Ymir pulled up the rear, whispering to one another in hushed tones as they tepidly followed. Reiner shot the pair a perplexed glance at one point, but Historia just grinned back broadly.

The band had just started to play a tempestuous jazz number when they finally broke through to the edge of the dance floor. Despite the crowd, the floor itself had mostly cleared out, save a few dancers who remained on the outskirts of the area; they seemed to be giving a wide berth to the couple at the center. There, a woman stood facing away from them, adorned in a dark dress with a dramatic slit running up her out-turned leg. She had one hand extended towards the man Reiner had seen speaking to the band.

The man began to circle the woman, eyes glued to her form as he gingerly moved about, drinking her in. As the tempo sped up, he approached her from behind, one arm aligning with her own, while the other wrapped tightly around her waist. As they dipped suddenly backwards, the woman brandished her leg out in a high kick, earning a soft murmur of awe from their audience. Without missing a beat, the man stood them back up and twisted his partner into a tight spin, arms clinging to her form as they came to rest facing one another. The speed of their turns escalated but they remained in a dangerously close embrace, the fringe of the woman’s dress flaring out with each movement and kick. As the song began to swell, the pair began to glide more sparingly around the floor, feet flourishing out at fascinating angles as their trajectory arced towards Reiner’s group.

With an invigorating blast from the trumpet, the man lifted the woman into the air. She fanned her legs out in one fluid motion, dress cascading over her legs as several people in the audience gasped. Returning her to the floor, they floated about in several more rotations before they came to a stop in time with the caesura of the song. The man began to draw the woman closer in a slow, sensual motion, the space between them disappearing. The woman brushed a hand down the man’s face as the two stared at one another. Then he dropped her into a deep plunge, her head stopping mere inches from the ground and her hair flaring out like a crown. 

Reiner’s heart stopped.

He inhaled a sharp breath, watching in disbelief as the man gradually raised the woman back up into his arms before the two began to glide around once again. He wanted to believe that he had not recognized the woman, but the nausea of jealousy swelling in the depths of his stomach knew the truth. It was _you_. Reiner thought he had buried his feelings for you long ago, but seeing you here, being held so intimately in the arms of another was unexpectedly maddening. He tried to take a step back, but was greeted only with a wall of bodies, locking him in place and condemning him to the torture of it all.

“Reiner,” he heard from beside him, Pieck’s demure voice. “Isn’t that…”

“Yeah,” he muttered, his mind flooding with memories you, of the first time you had danced with _him_. “It’s her.”

_It was one of the last nights of the Eldian Sun Festival the summer after graduation. The pair of you had spent most of the evening drinking and laughing with your friends while wandering the pop-up booths and venues for good fun. You had been wearing a lilac dress with your newly bobbed hair tucked into a straw hat adorned with a ribbon. He had felt inadequate next to you, wearing pants that were one size too big and his first attempt at facial hair scruffy on his face. But despite his own apprehensions, you had clung to his side more than usual that night— or so he thought. Lately it was hard for him discern whether you were dropping hints of affection or if he was just reading into things too deeply._

_As the hour grew late, he had offered to walk you home— a thinly veiled plan to get you alone, but you had agreed to it readily. The two of you drifted casually through the festival nightlife, talking, and laughing as easily as always. Coming upon the band and dance floor, you had paused, taking a moment to breathe in the music._

_“Ah, this song is great,” you murmured, mocking out a few dance steps on the sidewalk fitting the tone and tempo. You finished the series of steps by twirling yourself with unnecessary flourish, dress spinning out around you, before you posed, looking at Reiner expectantly._

_He tried to suppress the dumb grin on his face, but failed, simply shaking his head at you._ _“You are embarrassing to be seen with.”_

 _Your mouth fell open in mock offense, turning away from him with a hand raised to your forehead in further dramatics._ _“You have no appreciation for the art of dance.”_

_“Oh, I have a lot of appreciation for it,” he argued. “When I’m at a safe distance.”_

_You heaved a sigh, before falling back in line with him._ _“Reiner, one day I am going to get you to dance with me. I promise you, nothing earth-shatteringly-awful will happen if we just do a few circles around the floor.”_

 _Reiner regarded you for a moment, so genuine and beautiful standing beside him in the soft light of the festival. He had been planning to spring you with his_ _‘earth-shattering’ surprise next month for your birthday, but something about this evening seemed to click. He swallowed hard and extended his arm out to you. “Fine. If you’re so confident, then let’s go dance.”_

 _You scowled at him before playfully batting his arm away._ _“Come on, don’t tease me.”_

_“I’m not,” he said, extending his arm out to you again. “Prove to me that the world won’t end if we go do some circles.”_

_You froze, eyes darting back and forth between his face and his hand._ _“You’re… serious?”_

 _He laughed then, a full and deep rumble._ _“Yes, I’m serious. Dance with me.”_

_And then you were blushing. At **him.** Without another word, you took his hand and lead him over to the floor, grinning from cheek to cheek. He followed as you weaved between the other dancers, bringing him to a stop in your own little corner of the floor. _

_“Ready?” You asked, as the two of you stood facing one another, awkward with apprehension. “We don’t have to do anything fancy…”_

_“I’m ready,” Reiner confirmed._

_Though you had looked ready to guide him, he found his way to your waist easily enough, his other hand quickly enveloping your open palm. His heart stammered at your newfound proximity as the two of you began to sway. With a curious expression, you allowed him to lead, and slowly the two of you began to move. Your expression grew more and more bewildered as he led you from basic footwork into more complicated turns and then into spins and dips._

_“Reiner, how are you…?” You asked, as he pulled you back in after a pivot._

_“I’ve been learning.”_

_“Learning to dance? Why?”_

_Reiner only smiled, then lifted you up by the waist into a brief hop. You giggled and kicked your feet out ecstatically, before seamlessly returning to the floor and carrying on. While he certainly was no professional, the last several months he had spent practicing with Historia and Ymir’s strict guidance had paid off. You were smiling and laughing and looking at him like he was the only person in the world. It was everything he could have hoped for._

_Eventually, the song winded down and the two of you came to a reluctant stop, breathing heavily as you held on to one another. The band began playing a more mellow tune, dulcet notes drifting softly into the night air._

_You looked up at him so sweetly, it was nearly intoxicating._ _“Reiner, that was… I… when did you learn all that?”_

_“I… was going to surprise you for your birthday,” he admitted. “But then tonight, you— I don’t know. You’re relentless, I suppose.”_

_“You learned… for me?”_

_He nodded, pulling you just barely closer, his heartbeat erratic in his chest as he muttered your name._ _“I care about you. A lot. I know we’ve been friends for a long time, and I would never want to make you feel uncomfortable, but…”_

 _Your squeezed Reiner’s shoulder, as if urging him._ _“But what?”_

 _He swallowed._ _“I want to be with you.”_

_“With me?” You murmured. “As in, together?”_

_“I know, I’m not great with words. But when I’m around you, everything just feels right. You’re this amazing force of passion and wit, and you make me feel like I can take on the world. And it took me a while to realize what this feeling was. But I think I know now.”_

_“Reiner…”_

_His voice was but a low rumble against the music now. “I love you. And I just needed you to know. If you don’t feel the same, I—”_

_Reiner_ _’s breath hitched as he felt your lips crash against his own, forceful and insatiable. It took him only a moment to return the kiss with a matched ferocity, pulling you flush against him, desperate to feel you— to feel that that this was real. Your mouth was saccharine and warm and better than he had imagined dozens of times over. It felt so illicit to be touching you and for you to be touching him back. Your breasts pressed against him while you ran your hands through his hair, and he held your bare neck. The dread that had pent up in his chest faded away, only to be replaced by a growing heat urging against his underclothes. Even so, he could not will himself to stop._

 _Despite his own avarice, he abided as you began to ease out of the kiss, gently pulling away from his lips and looking up at him with gleaming eyes._ _“I love you, too, Reiner. I have for a long time.”_

_“You… have?” He asked, a bit stunned at his own obliviousness._

_You beamed up at him._ _“Yes. I was starting to lose hope that you would ever realize.”_

 _He could not help but laugh._ _“Yeah, I… I suppose I was a little slow, wasn’t I?”_

_“Maybe. But I think I know how you can make up for it.” Then you grabbed his hand and pulled him out into the night._

Applause erupted around him and Reiner realized the song had come to an end. You remained out on the floor, one leg hoisted onto your partner’s hip while the man held your lower back, both of you breathing heavily in the other’s arms. After a moment, he released you from his grip and spun you out into a humble curtsy as he bowed beside you. Several people whooped and hollered from the outskirts of the floor, while Zeke gave an earsplitting whistle. The older man gave nudged Reiner several times in the back.

“That’s the woman I was talking about earlier. Pretty, right? And apparently _incredibly_ talented.”

Reiner could only nod in response, the contents of his stomach threatening to resurface at Zeke’s implication.

As the band began playing the next song, people flooded onto the floor, some pulling less-than-willing partners behind them, inspired to imitate what they had just seen. With the crowd dispersing, Reiner realized this was his chance to escape. If he left now, he could save you the distress of seeing him and drown his unwarranted feelings elsewhere. The last thing he wanted was to taint the radiance of you tonight with his misgivings and regrets.

“Over here, twinkle toes!”

Reiner snapped his head down in horror, watching helplessly as Pieck began to wave ecstatically in your direction. Despite her usually delicate voice, she was just as loud as the other drunk patrons vying for your attention. Reiner could only hope that her screams would be lost in the amalgamation of voices and chaos spilling onto the floor. Unfortunately, he had never been a lucky man.

“Pieck!”

Your voice cut through the din like a knife, unmistakable to his ears. With a deep breath, Reiner dared a glance in your direction, freezing as he found your own eyes staring back at him. For a long moment, the two of you just looked at one another, expressionless and still, waiting for the other to make the first move. His heart was beating irrationally fast, and he found the warmth in his veins urged him not to flee, but to run to you and sweep you into his arms. But he buried the desire, and instead gave a slight nod, to which you smiled politely. Then _t_ he moment was gone as quickly as it came— to his combined relief and disappointment. But you had not looked at him with hatred or disdain, just ambivalence, which was better than he deserved. Reiner watched as your partner whispered something into your ear that made you laugh before you began to make your way over. He diverted his gaze, he had to keep it together.

Once you were within several feet, Pieck took off in your direction, the short woman toppling into you without an ounce of grace. “It’s so good to see you,” she exclaimed, squeezing you tightly. “You were amazing out there.”

“Pieck, I missed you so much. I can’t believe you’re here.” You wrapped your arms around her waist, spinning her around, just off the floor.

Without thinking, Reiner extended his hand out towards the two of you. “Be careful, she’s— she’s just off her crutch.”

You glanced his way, color draining from your face before returning Pieck to the ground. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize. Are you okay?”

“Ugh, yes I’m fine. Reiner worries too much,” she said, dismissing him with a hand wave.

“Of course he worries when you just throw yourself around like a rag doll,” Porco scolded her. He shook his head, running a hand through slicked back hair before looking in your direction. “How’s it going, Avalon? Nice moves. I feel like I need a cold shower after that.”

“Galliard,” you acknowledged with a wide smile, before moving to pull him into a hug as well. “How are you? Did you get taller or is it just the hair?”

“Oh, come on, I haven’t seen you in two years and the first thing you do is insult my height. Unbelievable.”

You laughed and shoved him playfully. “I’m just kidding. Soldier looks good on you.”

A reluctant blush seeped onto his cheeks. “Thanks, I guess.”

Then you turned your attention to Reiner.

“How are you?” He asked as you approached.

“Getting by,” you replied, looking up at him with hands outstretched. “And you?”

All too naturally, he obliged your request, leaning down to wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace, your own arms finding their way around his neck. Reiner smiled to himself and gave into his earlier instinct, lifting you off the ground with ease, your body pressing against him as he held you up. “Oh, you know, getting by.”

You held to him tighter and giggled madly, his heart soaring at the sound; he wanted to cling to that feeling for as long as possible. He was sure he held you in his arms for a few moments too long, but found your eyes still glued to him with a curious smile on your face as he set you back down. He forgot how impossibly you could out-shine his apprehensions.

“Annie is here too,” Pieck noted, moving beside you. “But it looks like Hitch just dragged her out to the floor.”

“Sounds about right,” you replied, glancing out towards the many couples now spinning to the current song.

Zeke cleared his throat, waiting with an expectant look on his face.

“Oh, this is our Commander _—_ _”_ Pieck began

“Zeke Yeager,” he finished, extending an arm out to you. “You put on one hell of a show.”

“Ah, so you’re Colt’s cousin. I’ve heard everything about you.” You said before shaking his hand. “But thanks, it was really just some improvisation. Wouldn’t have been able to do half of it if not for your saving my ass earlier.”

Zeke shrugged “A minor service for the greater good of everyone in this club tonight. So, you went to school with these idiots?”

“Oh yes. I’m one of the idiots, I suppose. Though obviously I don’t follow your commands.”

He gave a full, deep laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of asking you too. You know, it's funny, your friend over here claimed not to know you,” he motioned to where Ymir stood with Historia a little further back.

Ymir made a disgruntled face and then looked at you with narrowed eyes.

“Oh, well that’s not unprecedented,” you admitted. “She decides if she cares for me on a day-to-day basis.”

“And don’t forget it,” Ymir threatened, sipping from the tiny straw in her rocks glass. Historia rolled her eyes and patted her wife’s shoulder.

“In all seriousness,” you continued. “I wasn’t sure how long I’d be talking business with my partner, so I asked Ymir not to let anyone know I was here yet. Speaking of which…”

Reiner glanced out to the floor where your partner had finished shaking hands with a portly older man amid all the dancing and was now strutting towards the group. Finally getting a better look at him, Reiner could discern the loose beige hair that peeked out from beneath a pointed hat that clung impressively to his head. There was also the flattering stubble that accented the angular features of the man's symmetrical face. He was lean and confident and attractive in all the ways Reiner felt he was not.

“There you are,” you mumbled as he arrived. “What took so long?”

“A man wanted to inquire about booking us for his wife’s 50th birthday,” he replied in a smooth tone, resting an arm on your shoulder. “Apparently it’s gonna be quite the party.”

“Oh, that will be a fun one,” you replied in an incredulous monotone. “Everyone, this is my partner, Jean Kirstein. We’ve been dancing together for… what? Just over two years now?”

“Feels like longer,” he replied, before turning towards the group.

You took a minute to introduce him to them one-by-one, skipping past Historia, Ymir, and Colt since they already seemed well-acquainted. Reiner noticed Jean repeat everyone’s name as he learned them, sharing some joke or small anecdote with each individual and earning their smile before moving onto the next. It was clear Jean’s charisma could easily rival Historia’s. Reiner felt another stab of jealousy in his chest.

He had learned long ago that your dancing career required you to have an equally skilled partner. At times, you had bounced around among a few, occasionally sticking with one for a year or so, but not much longer. Speculating on potential romantic entanglements with your partners had been a favorite subject of their friend group in school, though always in good fun. Despite the imaginary drama, you always reminded them that such partnerships were strictly professional, and Reiner had trusted you on that. But years had passed since then and there was something so intimate about how Jean treated you that had his mind racing with thoughts of your relationship being anything but platonic.

When Jean finally arrived at him, Reiner shook his hand a bit too aggressively. Though Jean’s smile remained, he swore he saw a sheer layer of sweat form on the man’s temples.

“It’s a pleasure to finally put faces to names,” Jean exclaimed as they finished introductions. “Fox has told me quite a few stories about the trouble you guys used to get into.”

“Fox?” Pieck asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Ah, it’s kinda like my stage name,” you replied, sheepishly.

“Yeah, when we first met, people were calling her Foxglove left and right,” Jean added. “Apparently it was after the type of the dresses she danced in, and _not_ after the poisonous flower, like I thought.”

“I dunno, poisonous sounds right to me,” Porco interjected with a smirk.

“You’re a bully, Pock,” Pieck scolded as she elbowed him in the ribs. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you after hearing about you in _the_ _Fox’s_ letters, Jean.” 

You groaned, a hand flying to your forehead. “Oh no, here we go.”

“You never mentioned you talked about me in your letters, Fox,” Jean said, fussing at your hair. “Writing to your friends about how much you love me?”

You shoved him away. “Alright, alright, shouldn’t you be getting back the bar before Marco misses you?”

“Fine, fine, I’ll probe you about it some other time,” Jean conceded with a dashing smile. “Sorry for keeping her, but I had to make she wasn’t too rusty after being in Paradis for a month. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you all around.”

Pieck grabbed him by the sleeve before he could totally leave. “Just so you know, I’m available.”

“Oh, uh, okay. I’ll… keep that in mind,” he replied, nervous laughter spilling from his throat as he tentatively pulled away from the woman. “Fox, I’ll, uh, see you at the studio tomorrow around one. Try not to be too hungover.”

“Just get out of here, you hound,” you replied, hands balled into fists on your hips.

Colt shook his head as the man strut away. “What was that all about, Pieck?”

She shrugged. “He was attractive. Not much else to it.”

You laughed. “That’s probably the first time I’ve ever seen him flustered. But unfortunately, he’s already spoken for.”

Pieck gave a deep sigh. “Of course. They say the good ones always are.”

“I wouldn’t describe him as _good,_ _”_ you admitted, giving a flaccid wave of your arm.

Reiner’s heart stuttered.

“So, the two of you are together then?” Zeke asked, bold as ever.

You looked at him with wide eyes, seemingly caught off guard by the question. Ymir, however, burst out laughing.

“Oh man. Let’s just say he’s… not her type. This one has always preferred tall, strong, blo-”

“Nothing!” You interjected, glaring at Ymir. “I mean- no, we’re not dating.”

“She’s single, the poor thing,” Historia added with a pout, looking directly at Reiner. He regarded her with a discreet shake of the head, watching as Ymir tightened her grip around Historia’s arm.

“Okay, that’s enough discussion about me,” you said, fidgeting with a chain on your neck. “How about I buy you all a round of drinks?”

“Now you’re speaking my language, Avalon. Less dancing, more drinking,” Porco replied, turning on his heel and heading towards the bar, the group beginning to meander after him.

You remained in place, looking back at Reiner, as if waiting for him. You smiled again. His mouth fell agape for just a moment before he began making his way to your side. However, Zeke intercepted you first.

“May I escort the lady?” He asked, extending his arm out to you.

You shot Reiner one last look, before turning your attention to Zeke and accepting his offer with a nod. “Of course.”

Reiner let out a sigh as the two of you walked off. He knew the look on your face meant you wanted to talk to him _._ And though he had been long out of practice at reading you, there was a familiarity that was coming back to him the longer you were near. It was like trying to speak his native language for the first time in years— he was a little rusty but picking it up quickly. He only hoped it would be fast enough.

“You better get your head in the game, Braun,” Ymir whispered at him as she and Historia passed. “We’re rooting for you, but it looks like you’ve got some competition.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao this chapter got super fucking long but i couldn't find a good point to splice it. anyways, reader/reiner have finally re-encountered one another so it's fun and games from here... right? the night is still young.


End file.
